Crafting Fantasy Maps:

“Maps don’t just show us where we’re going — they tell us who we are.”

If you write fantasy, sooner or later, you’re going to face The Map Question: do you make one? And if you do, how detailed should it be? Do you go full Tolkien with mountain ranges, rivers, and ancient trade routes, or do you sketch out a vague coastline and hope nobody asks how long it takes your characters to cross the continent?

Here’s the thing: maps aren’t just pretty extras you stick in the front of your book to look clever. They shape your story. Geography determines culture, politics, economy, even personality. A desert kingdom has to be different from a port city carved into the cliffs. A mountain pass changes military strategy. A river delta creates trade hubs. And as soon as you start thinking about that, your world starts breathing.

So let’s talk about how to craft fantasy maps that don’t just look good — they work.

🗺️ Start with Purpose, Not Aesthetics

Before you even draw your first wiggly coastline, ask yourself: why are you making this map?

Is it to keep track of where your characters are going? To give readers a sense of scale? To build cultures shaped by their environment? The purpose will guide how much detail you need.

For example, if your entire story takes place in a single city, you probably don’t need to sketch an entire continent. But if your characters are crossing kingdoms, sailing treacherous seas, and starting wars, you need the geography to make sense.

When I built my own fantasy world, I didn’t start with the plot — I started with a river. Because rivers decide everything: where cities grow, where people trade, where conflicts happen. Once I placed it, my world started forming around it, like clay taking shape.

🌍 Geography Shapes Culture (and Conflict)

Here’s where so many writers slip up: they draw the map, then paste their plot on top like a sticker. But the most immersive fantasy worlds feel inevitable. Culture, politics, and personality should emerge naturally from the land itself.

• Mountains create isolation. Cultures here tend to be defensive, tight-knit, and resourceful.
• Rivers and deltas breed bustling trade cities, cosmopolitan diversity, and inevitable class divides.
• Deserts foster nomadic traditions, spiritual depth, and often resource-based conflict.
• Forests can be sanctuary, mystery, or danger depending on who claims them.

Look at Tolkien: Mordor isn’t just a random evil land. Its volcanic terrain mirrors Sauron’s corruption. Its mountains form natural borders, forcing invasions through strategic choke points. Geography is conflict.

Your world should be the same. If two kingdoms hate each other, ask why. Is it because of scarce water sources? A mountain pass worth controlling? A fertile valley both want to claim? When the land dictates the politics, your world feels real.

🧭 Scale, Distance, and the Dreaded Travel Problem

Ah, travel time — the bane of fantasy writers everywhere.

We’ve all read that book where the hero magically crosses an entire continent in two days. Unless they’ve got dragons or portals, your readers will notice.

When building your map, establish:

• How big is your world? Give yourself reference points based on real-world geography.
• How do people travel? Horseback? Ship? Portal magic? Walking?
• What slows them down? Rivers without bridges, mountain passes, swamps full of monstrous things?

Quick tip: research medieval travel speeds. A human on foot covers about 20 miles a day. A horse can double that if you’re swapping mounts. Armies, though? Way slower.

This isn’t just about avoiding plot holes — it’s about pacing. If crossing a desert takes two weeks, those two weeks matter. You can weave in tension, bonding, danger, and revelation during that journey. Geography shapes narrative.

🌊 Natural Resources = Power and Politics

Want instant worldbuilding depth? Look at your map and decide who controls what resources.

Does one kingdom have fertile farmland while another has rich mineral veins? Does a single trade route run through hostile territory? Who controls the only pass through the mountains? Suddenly, you’ve got stakes.

Think about George R.R. Martin’s Game of Thrones. The North’s vast resources are worthless without southern ports. The Iron Islands thrive on naval dominance because their land is barren. Power struggles are written into the soil.

Resource placement doesn’t just make your world feel real — it creates story fuel.

🏛️ Land Shapes Legends and Myth

Culture isn’t just food and politics — it’s belief. Sacred mountains, cursed forests, gods tied to rivers… the land births the myths.

This is where you get to weave emotion into geography. Give your readers places that feel alive:

• A misty lake where an ancient queen drowned, now whispered about in lullabies.
• A mountain peak believed to be the seat of the gods.
• A dead city swallowed by the desert, its name forbidden to speak.

These details breathe magic into your map and make your world unforgettable.

✍️ My Process (And Why I Always Start with Rivers)

I’ll confess: I used to be a coastline-first writer. I’d sketch elaborate continents with dramatic shorelines, then realise I had no idea where my people lived or why. It was pretty, but useless.

Now I start simple:

1. Draw rivers first.
2. Place cities along those rivers.
3. Add mountain ranges to create natural borders.
4. Decide where the conflicts lie.
5. Layer in forests, deserts, and oceans last.

It’s not glamorous, but it works. And it keeps my plot grounded in geography, not vibes.

🌟 Final Thoughts

Fantasy maps aren’t just decoration — they’re story engines. They decide where your heroes are born, where wars are fought, where myths are told. They make your world feel inevitable.

So don’t just draw a pretty coastline and call it a day. Build a landscape that breathes. Let your geography shape your cultures, conflicts, and characters.

Because when your map feels real, your story does too.